


Tailed

by cheyennesunrise



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Gift Fic, Gift Giving, M/M, One Shot, Protective John, Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheyennesunrise/pseuds/cheyennesunrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finch is being followed, and Reese is desperate to get to the bottom of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tailed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TimelessDreamer2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimelessDreamer2/gifts).



> Gift fic for TimelessDreamer2. Merry Christmas!  
> Note: this is set during season 2.

***

John Reese awoke to the shrill, repetitive ringing of his cell phone. He groaned and reached over to his nightstand, fumbling past his unloaded Glock and the fifteen-round clip before he finally found the source of his annoyance.

“Mm-hmm? Hello?” he mumbled. 

There was a brief pause, and then John heard a disconcertingly nervous exhalation. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, Mr. Reese, but I need your assistance.”

John’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of Harold’s voice.

“What’s the matter, Finch? Do we have a number already?”

“Yes, and I’m watching her right now. However, something doesn’t seem right, Mr. Reese,” Harold admitted.

John didn’t need to hear anything else. His feet were already on the floor, and he rapidly dressed and holstered his gun.

“Where are you, Harold?” John asked in a single breath. His voice was low and terse, but it came out as a snarl, catching Harold by surprise.

“I’m right by the Library, Mr. Reese. Our number seems to be safe for the time being, but I can’t shake this feeling…,” he faltered, and John frowned in concern.

“What feeling?” John asked stiffly, and Harold cleared his throat.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing, but I feel almost feel like… someone’s following me,” Harold said slowly, and John gritted his teeth.

“Harold, is Bear with you?” 

John’s voice was even lower now, a dangerous, feral rumble.

“What? Yes, of course, Mr. Reese. Everything is fine. I apologize for waking you, and I’m sure that I was just imagining things,” Harold said quickly. He started to apologize again, but John wouldn’t listen.

“Harold, you need to get back to the Library right now. I just left my apartment, so I should be there in a few minutes.”

John disconnected the call as he descended the staircase in two steps.

He ran to his car and jammed the keys into the ignition, cursing to himself all the while.

John arrived at the Library ten minutes later. He looked up and down the block several times, suspiciously eyeing the people who seemed to stop at the corner of 30th for just a little too long.

He tapped his earpiece and glanced up at the security camera.

“I’m here, Finch. I’m coming inside.”

John could hear Harold exhale shakily on the other end.

“Okay, Mr. Reese. Thank you.”

His voice was taut and nervous, and John glared at the passing people one more time.

 _Someone was going to be sorry_.

When he entered the library, John found Harold at the computer station. He was stirring his tea absentmindedly, but his posture was noticeably rigid.

“Is everything all right, Harold?” John asked slowly. His voice was calm, placating, and Harold gave a quick nod.

“Yes, Mr. Reese. I shouldn’t have called you so early in the morning. I received a number, and I saw that she worked at an open-air restaurant down the road, so I decided to investigate,” he said, pausing to sip his tea thoughtfully.

“Harold, you know that you should’ve waited for me,” John said softly, but Harold caught the concern in his voice.

“I apologize, but I thought that I should at least assess the situation first,” Harold said with a shrug. 

John bristled at his nonchalance.

“I understand, Harold, but you should leave the field work to me. I don’t want you going out there alone, especially if you think that someone is following you,” he said firmly. 

Harold dropped his gaze and looked over at Bear.

“I wasn’t alone, Mr. Reese. Bear was there to protect me.”

He lifted his eyes, and John could see the gratitude plain on his face. John was taken aback at Harold’s openness, and he nodded in reply.

“Next time, I’m going with you” he said gruffly, and Harold heard the implied “ _and there are no exceptions_.”

He took another sip of his tea and pulled up a photo of their latest number.

“Mr. Reese, this is the woman in question. Her name is Anna Ortiz, age 27. She works at the Blue Moon Café as a waitress, but her record is clean. She also has a surprisingly small digital footprint and she spends most of her free time on a coding forum,” Harold explained. He pulled up several other screenshots of her browsing and employment history.

John narrowed his eyes and kept his gaze firmly fixed on his partner. He was still rather perturbed by Harold’s assertion that someone was following him.

“I’ll keep an eye on her, Finch, but I think that you should stay here. If you need anything, I’ll be right down the road.”

John flashed Harold a comforting smile, but it did little to alleviate the stress or paranoia in the older man’s mind.

As soon as John left the Library, Harold pulled up the feeds from the corner security camera.

He rewound the tape for several minutes until he finally spotted himself on the corner of the street. Harold narrowed his eyes and adjusted his glasses, but he didn’t see anything or anyone out of the ordinary.

He scanned the crowd for furtive glances or nervous tics, but nothing stood out.

Harold sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“Maybe I really am too paranoid, Bear,” he said softly, and the Malinois whined in response.

***

John was pacing the street like a madman, guarding the Library with the fervor and fury of Cerberus.

He knew that he was supposed to be watching Anna, but he couldn’t leave his post in front of the Library.

John checked and re-checked the crowd, earning several annoyed stares and a few indulgent winks.

He felt for the Glock at his hip and rested his hand on the weapon, ever vigilant.

John tapped his earpiece and waited for a painfully long moment until Harold answered.

“Yes, Mr. Reese?”

“I’m just checking in, Harold. Are you okay?” John asked quietly. He heard Harold place the teacup on the desk, and then came the gentle reply:

“Yes, Mr. Reese. Everything’s okay.” 

John exhaled slowly, and it must’ve sounded like a sigh of relief, because Harold quickly added, “Everything’s fine, John. Please don’t stay in front of the Library all day.”

John looked up at the security camera again, and Harold could see him hide a sheepish smile.

“I forgot that you have eyes everywhere, Harold.”

Harold grinned despite himself. “Of course, Mr. Reese, but I don’t have a clear shot of the Blue Moon Café.”

John looked up at the security camera again and nodded.

“OK, Finch. I’m on it.”

He strode down the street with even more determination than usual, and Harold noticed that he kept the phone line open.

“Let me know if you need anything,” John said again, and Harold could tell that he meant it.

***

John arrived at the café several minutes later. Harold gave him a few more details about Anna’s history and her recent breakup with one Richard Jones, a known drug dealer.

He rushed through the information, and his normally articulate voice was strained, distracted. Harold was simultaneously going through the security footage from that morning, but he still couldn’t find anything to confirm his suspicions that someone had been following him.

A beep from the computer brought him out of his reverie.

“Yes, Mr. Reese?” Harold asked expectantly.

“Finch, she just left the restaurant. I’ve got eyes on a guy in a trench coat. He matches the boyfriend’s description, so I’ll follow him,” John said quickly.

Harold could hear John’s pace quicken, and he hesitated.

“John, would you like me to follow Ms. Ortiz?” 

There was a brief pause.

“No. Stay there, Finch,” John commanded. Harold opened his mouth to protest, but he bit his lip.

“We really should keep an eye on her, Mr. Reese.”

“I’ll call Fusco. Just stay where you are, Finch,” John said.

Harold frowned and stared at his computer. He wasn’t able to see John, but he could see the flashing red icon on his GPS grid.

He swallowed nervously and grabbed Bear’s leash. 

“Let’s go for a walk, Bear,” Harold said, adding a quick “I’m sorry, John” as he left the library.

***

John had managed to apprehend Richard with relative ease, and he kept a firm knee on his back until Carter arrived to arrest him.

Anna Ortiz was long gone, however, so John tapped his earpiece and waited for Harold.

“Finch?”

John heard a muffled noise on the other end, and his heart jumped into his throat.

“Harold, is everything okay?” he asked frantically.

“Mr. Reese! I’m following Ms. Ortiz,” Harold said. “It looks like she’s going into her apartment, but I can’t be sure from this angle.”

John’s heart was pounding wildly now, and he willed himself to stay calm and breathe in and out, in and out.

“Harold, when did you leave the Library?” he asked tightly. John’s usually calm voice went up an octave as a wave of panic washed over him.

“Just a few minutes ago. I had to, Mr. Reese. I’m sorry! I knew that you had to deal with her boyfriend, but I couldn’t leave her unattended,” Harold said in a shaky voice. John felt a twinge of remorse, but his worry got the best of him yet again.

“I’ll go by the apartments, Harold. Please go back to the Library,” John said softly. He was almost pleading, but he didn’t care.

“I- I will. I’ll see you later,” Harold managed. He pulled on Bear’s leash and murmured the Dutch command for follow.

Bear’s ears pricked up and he quickened his pace to a trot. Harold paused for a moment and looked over his shoulder one last time.

“I must be hearing things,” he mused, but he decided to err on the side of caution and head back to the Library.

***

John gritted his teeth as he headed down 30th street. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Fusco’s number.

“Lionel, I need you to keep an eye on Finch for me. Stay in front of the Library and don’t let him leave under any circumstances. Also, keep an eye out for any suspicious people,” he said.

“Sure thing, Wonderboy.”

Fusco quickly complied, clearly aware of the gravity of the situation.

John stalked down the street, still on the lookout for anyone who could still pose a threat to Harold.

He had to remind himself that they still had a number to deal with, but he knew how to prioritize. 

John had already determined that Anna Ortiz was safe in her apartment, and he didn’t want to spend any more time away from Harold. He surveyed the street one last time and turned around, heading back toward the Library. 

***

Harold Finch was just about to unhook Bear’s leash when he heard a faint scratching at the door. His grip on the leash tightened and he turned around slowly, holding his breath in anticipation and fear.

“Is anyone there?” he called.

Bear’s fur stood on end, and he bared his teeth in a menacing growl.

The scratching persisted, and Harold opened the door a crack. A shaft of sunlight crossed the room, but no one was there. Harold frowned in confusion, but as he turned to shut the door, he heard the noise again.

This time, he looked down, and found himself staring into a pair of almond-shaped green eyes.

An orange tabby cat was sitting at his feet, and it let out a soft, curious mewling sound. Harold almost stumbled backward, and he released a hysterical, relieved laugh.

“Bear, look!” he cried.

The dog started to growl, but Harold quickly patted his head and told him that it was fine.

“A cat! Oh, Mr. Reese isn’t going to believe this!” he laughed.

Harold unhooked Bear’s leash and let the dog run back up the stairs.

He dialed John’s number and waited for the other man to respond.

“Mr. Reese! You won’t believe it!” he sputtered, his words interspersed with laughter.

“Finch? What’s wrong? Harold?!” John’s voice was insistent, frantic, and Harold quickly calmed down.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Reese. I just discovered who has been following me all day,” Harold said.

“I’m right outside, Finch. Who was it?” John asked urgently.

When Harold didn’t respond, John all but broke the door down.

He raced up the stairs and found Harold sitting in his office chair, stroking a small orange cat.

“I’m sorry for alarming you, Mr. Reese,” Harold said, and a wide grin spread across his face. “This little fellow was the culprit.”

John’s eyes widened, but his face quickly crumpled into a smile. His shoulders shook with laughter and hysteria and relief, and he walked over to Harold, marveling at the creature in his arms.

“You caused a lot of trouble today,” he said softly, but his eyes were fixed on Harold, and then his voice fell, “I don’t care if it was just a cat, Harold. You shouldn’t go out alone anymore.”

Harold gave a slight nod and placed the cat gently on the floor.

“We should let him out, I suppose,” he murmured.

John pulled Harold to his feet and placed a firm hand on each shoulder.

“You’re staying right here, Harold,” he said in that low, dangerous voice, and Harold nodded again.

“I fully intend on it, Mr. R-,” he began, and John interrupted him with a firm _I’m-not-letting-you –out-of- my-sight_ kiss.

“Good,” John said quietly, and the tabby meowed in approval.

End.


End file.
